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TOKYO<br />
‘<br />
LOCALS PREFER<br />
TO FLOCK TO<br />
OLD-SCHOOL,<br />
CASH-ONLY<br />
RAMEN JOINTS<br />
IN RAMSHACKLE<br />
ALLEYWAYS<br />
’<br />
On my first morning, the crush of<br />
Shibuya, the trendy shopping district,<br />
left me breathless. At the famed Shibuya<br />
crossing, the illuminated, advert-flooded<br />
intersection — Piccadilly Circus on<br />
steroids — crowds scurried like ants<br />
across zebra crossings. Every direction<br />
provided a fresh assault: hole-in-thewall<br />
katsu curry bars, their plastic food<br />
displays pulling weary-eyed tourists<br />
into dingy basements; CD emporiums<br />
pumping out syrupy J-pop tunes; queues<br />
snaking from $2 sushi joints; purplehaired<br />
girls chattering outside malls.<br />
Of course, in Tokyo, the gaudy chaos<br />
is a ‘sight’ in itself — so, despite the<br />
hectic scene, I progressed. Rubbing the<br />
jet lag from my eyes, I wove through the<br />
thicket, heading north past lanes lined<br />
with shoe shops and towering homeware<br />
stores. I passed through the vintage<br />
boutiques of rammed, pedestrianised<br />
Cat Street; I perused the bizarre anime<br />
merchandise at bewildering megashop<br />
Kiddy Land. Before long I was<br />
in Harajuku, Tokyo’s teen-fashion<br />
epicentre, and bravely turned left onto<br />
Takeshita Street. Whatever madness<br />
had come before, it had nothing on this:<br />
hundreds, no thousands, of kids, a tidal<br />
wave rushing into discount sunglasses<br />
shops and out of cat cafés. Music was<br />
blaring from every direction; cloudlike<br />
puffs of rainbow cotton candy and<br />
bags of chocolate-smothered crisps<br />
were passed around by the dozen.<br />
And then, as if it wasn’t squeezy<br />
enough, along came a matsuri – a<br />
traditional Japanese festival procession.<br />
Where men and women in traditional<br />
happi coats bounced a golden shrine<br />
through the crowd, chanting excitedly.<br />
Once I reached the end of the street —<br />
it was just 400m, but it took more than<br />
an hour — I siphoned myself off from<br />
the human tide. I could have carried<br />
on with the flow, bound for the famed<br />
Meiji shrine, a grand series of wooden<br />
buildings in a sprawling nearby park.<br />
But experience told me that today — a<br />
Saturday — any sliver of tranquillity<br />
would be shattered by camera-clicking<br />
hordes and ooh-aahing tourists. I wasn’t<br />
22 anymore, and rather than more<br />
insanity, what I needed was a break.<br />
I fixed a quick plan: after a 20-minute<br />
zip on the metro, I stepped out from<br />
Gokokuji station, in central Tokyo’s<br />
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